


Oops I did it again, I forgot what I...

by BeautifulKnight



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Real Events, Novelization, Slice of Life, Snippets, on the road, viewpoints
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulKnight/pseuds/BeautifulKnight
Summary: Novelizations of some of the more prominent events in Final Fantasy VII.





	Oops I did it again, I forgot what I...

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I'm trying this. Wish me luck :O
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters or scenarios, just the unique word combinations. If I did, the remake would be out by now.... probably.

Had Midgar always been so big? The plate loomed above him like a monster, blocking out the sky completely. It would swallow him whole if he wasn’t careful. He wandered aimlessly from one sector to the next, looking for…. He wasn’t really quite sure now that he thought about it. Perhaps it was the someone who had said

 

_run._

 

Or maybe he’d just imagined that word. Whatever the case, he knew distinctly that there was somewhere he shouldn’t be, and that was the somewhere where he could see the sky. Maybe it had been raining. It was raining now, he heard it pounding against the metal of the plate, even as he walked hundreds of feet below it. It shouldn’t have been possible to feel alone in the slums of Midgar, because crowds of people parted and dissipated him, there were so many _people._ He shouldn’t feel alone. He shook his head forcefully.

 

His knees finally buckled in Sector 8, where his back fell against the elevated train station platform. Something cold dripped onto his head but he didn’t have much thought to spare for that. Instead, his hand tightened around the handle of a massive broadsword sitting in his lap. It was at least five feet long, grubby from what he knew was years of use. It had been years of use, because it was his sword, and he’d had it for as long as he could remember. SOLDIER 1st Class, that’s what he was. But it was all a bit hazy wasn’t it? Warped in the wrong places, too many people or not enough? One him? Many hims? It was all a bit green, now that he thought about it.

 

The reflection was _wrong._ There were too many wrongs to put his finger on, too many things to look at and not know the answer for. So he looked away from the sword’s blade, it was probably distorting his reflection anyway, and shelved all of the uncertainties away. SOLDIERs knew what they were doing.

 

Except…. yeah. He’d quit, they hadn’t paid him enough or something. So he’d quit.

 

The rain continued to fall on his head, (There must be a crack in the plate above him) lulling his thoughts into nothingness.

 

_Protect your honor as SOLDIER._

 

_Mercenaries-_

 

_Run._

 

_Don’t push your luck._

 

There was a warm hand on his head and a pair of red combat boots standing at his side.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

A woman’s voice, it was familiar too. If he really thought about it, it was like that time when it was too hot, and slitted green eyes were _there, even in through the flames, he saw them clearly. And a disgusting stench was all around him, burnt wood, and something too terrible to describe, because his mom was right there. She was right there, in the flames, she reached out to him, and oh god._

 

_The fire was on her skin now._

 

He was leaning on someone’s shoulder, his gaze trained on the ground below him. Those red combat boots were walking, forward, with purpose, while his own boots moved sluggishly. The whole situation seemed very familiar to him.

 

But this time It was a woman’s shoulder he was leaning on, with a woman’s face. Not just any face though, because she had the same voice and her name was-

 

“… Tifa?”

 

“Cloud.” Her eyes met his. He stared into those maroon eyes reverently, because they were _alive._ Tifa was _alive._

 

“That’s right,” He said, “I’m Cloud.” Because that’s who he was. Cloud. And he couldn’t really walk on his own for some reason, but it was nothing a little sleep wouldn’t fix.

 

It had been a long time since he’d thought seen her die, five years, and he told her just that. He never saw the concern and confusion, the frantic thoughts racing behind her forehead. Instead, Tifa hiked him further up on her shoulder, reminding him how she was bearing most of his weight. He would need to put an end to that, he shouldn’t be letting other people carry him. It just wasn’t something he’d normally do. Really.

 

The only words that slipped out of her were, “It’s really been a long time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would say that feedback gives me oxygen, but it's much easier to say that feedback/critique = motivation/better chapters = faster updates :D wow do I sound obnoxious... Thanks for reading!


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